


Not Quite An Enemy

by StrawberryRuffles



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, M/M, Protective Negan, Recovery, Set after they took out Negan's outpost, Sexual Violence, Violence, poor rick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-03 02:32:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11522685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryRuffles/pseuds/StrawberryRuffles
Summary: Split up from Michonne, Rick gets into a bad position when looking for her and it is up to Negan to save him.





	1. A Bad Encounter

He didn’t recognise this place. Not even from passing it. It was the only building he had seen in the miles he had walked in an attempt to find Michonne. They had been split up by too many walkers to take on with just the two of them, and were forced to run separate ways. Rick hadn’t learned much about tracking from Daryl and when it came to finding his way back through the maze of trees that looked exactly the same, he didn’t have much luck straight away. Finally, he found something. Footprints going off in one direction and a lot of blood. He shouted her name. No answer.

He headed back towards where they had parked the car. The tracks looked as if someone had made a hasty get-a-way. So, hopefully, she was safe. But, he knew Michonne wouldn’t have left him stranded out here and she was nowhere to be seen.

He tried to prise open the metal door of the compound with all the strength he had left after having walked so long. He needed supplies. After all, that was why they have come all the way out here. In search of something to sustain Alexandria. He banged heavily on the door a few times. He only had a gun with a few shots left and a knife tucked into the back of his boot: he had lost his hatchet to a walker. There didn’t seem to be any movement or sound from any dead that he could hear through the thick metal. The door wouldn’t budge. When was he ever that fortunate? He thought about shooting the lock, though the last thing he wanted was to alert every walker in the nearby vicinity with only a couple of weapons. The gun was on an emergency-only use basis.

“Michonne,” he shouted, hopelessly. He went around the back, maybe there was somewhere else that could provide safety and shade from the blinding sun.

Their car was parked behind it, blood and entrails covering the headlights. Immediately, he ran towards it, yelling her name out into the empty parking lot. Perhaps it wasn’t hopeless. Michonne had seen the building too and headed there to see if Rick was here. Yet, she was nowhere to be seen. The car was open, though there was no key inside. Luckily, there were supplies left in it and he took a drink of the much needed water. He exited the car and shouted her again. He ran towards the other building opposite the locked one.

She had to be here.

He rushed in as soon as the handle pulled the door open – his rush to find Michonne more important than taking the precautions necessary. He took out his gun and turned the safety off, holding it out in front of him. The building was big and dully lit, daylight only breaching through the cracks in the defences. Michonne didn’t seem to be in here, yet there were countless supplies built up in boxes on top of each other.

And then he understood.

This had to be someone’s hold. Another group’s. And he was trespassing. Sure, he would come back and take them on, yet on his own was not a good idea. Slowly, he backed up. If anyone was here, there was no chance they hadn’t already heard him.

_If they had Michonne…_

“Drop your weapon,” a man said, coming out in front of him from a doorway at the side, a pistol pointed at him. A black mask covered half his face and the scar across his eye was just visible in the low light. Rick raised his gun. The shot was clear and direct. His finger hovered over the trigger as he decided whether to shoot. And then he didn’t see, but heard the snap of the safety on the guns being turned off.

Hesitantly, Rick lowered to the ground and slid his gun forward. He didn’t have a choice. They hadn’t shot him on sight which was a good thing, unless they wanted to find out where he came from. Not that they would get a word out of him.

“I didn’t know anyone was here,” Rick stated, raising his hands up in surrender. The one knife he had on him was useless against the guns. His best chance was to run, but he didn’t know their number.

The man in front of him laughed. Rick stirred at the sound.

Then he felt the coolness of a pistol being pressed against his head from someone who had been silent enough to creep up from behind.

The voice behind him was gruff and low, “Where you from?” He pressed the gun with more pressure into the back of his head.

“A small group. We got split up. You have our car. Is my friend here?” For all he knew, they had killed her for the car. The thought of her dead was not one he wanted to think about. She was alive, he felt it.

“You’re in no position to be asking the questions.”

“I’m not a threat.”

“You know where we are. You know where to find us.” If Rick was in the other man’s position, he wouldn’t have let him go either. The supplies they had were priceless. He could hear the man’s thoughts as if they were being spoken aloud: the decision of whether to kill him or keep him as a prisoner. All of this depending on his value and use to these men.

Rick breathed out shakily as the man took the gun away from his head. Still, he was uncertain of what would happen next. He couldn’t see the man’s cruel smile under his mask in front of him, but he could tell from the eyes that they were playing with him, taunting him.

He was staring into the man’s eyes, trying to predict his next move and make his based off it. Suddenly, the gun was hit with force into the back of his head, sending him toppling to the concrete floor. He hit his head hard on the way down. He turned over onto his back and he kicked out as the man who hit him came towards him; he looked like the leader of the group. The man with the mask tried to take hold of his wrists and he fought furiously to get free of his grip. He reached for the knife, yet the man got to it before him. Rick slammed his boot into his hand and he dropped it. He lunged for it, yet the masked man pinned him to the ground with his weight.

Somehow he fought him off and made his way to the door. A loud gunshot rang through his ears and Rick fell down as a bullet tore through his leg. He yelled out in pain as the leader pulled him back within the centre of the room, a blood trail forming from his leg. He managed to grab the knife from the sheath on the man’s belt. He stabbed it straight through his leg, ripping through his muscle and meeting the bone. The leader cried out and fell back from the fight, whilst the masked man brought his boot down with full force on Rick’s ribcage.

The other men surrounding intervened, helping bind the leader’s wound and secure Rick facedown to the ground. It took about four men beating him until he finally was able to be held. Rick looked up at the injured man, fire in his eyes, while one of the men pressed his boot on Rick’s head. The leader secured his wound with a tight piece of cloth, though it didn’t do much as the blood immediately soaked through it and carried on dripping down his leg, causing his trousers to stick to his skin. Anger consumed his features.

Blood and saliva trickled out of Rick’s mouth onto the floor as the man limped towards him. It was hard to see straight. Blurry bright lights danced in his eyes caused by the leaks of daylight through the rotting wood nailed against the window.

“You’ve got to make this hard,” he boomed, wiping away the blood from the corner of his mouth. He seemed rather calm considering how much blood he was losing. “Hold him. Tight.” The men did as commanded, so Rick was unable to move an inch.

The man knelt beside him and leaned down, despite the pain clearly caused from the movement to his leg. Through gritted teeth, he hissed, “I’m gonna rip that pretty little ass in two and just for the leg, I’m gonna let all these men have a go if they want one. And trust me, they will want one. Probably more than one go.”

He struggled to no avail as he felt his trousers being pulled roughly down. He cried out, his voice being the only thing he had left. Rick pushed against the men’s hold, unable to regain any control. Of all the things they wanted, this was nowhere near what he predicted.

“I fucking love it when they scream,” the leader responded as he undid his own belt, moving behind Rick, out of his sight. Though it caused him pain also, he pushed down with his good leg on the gunshot wound, resulting in a hoarse broken cry from Rick.

“I’ll be honest; I don’t think you’ll survive this one.” His laugh sent a shiver through his spine, the others’ didn’t have quite the same effect. Rick pressed his bloody lips together and bit down on his tongue, not giving him the satisfaction of another scream as he relieved and reapplied the pressure on his wound.

He was not going to beg. That was not how he wanted to go, mindless words forming pleads built on layers of pain. If he wasn’t going to make, they were not going to be his last words. He bit down with more pressure as the man put the entity of his weight onto him. With any luck, one of his broken ribs would pierce his lungs and he would not have to endure the rest of the humiliating torture they had planned.

“Ready for me, darling?” he whispered into his ear, his tone riddled with cruelty. He licked down the side of his face where beads of sweat and blood collected. Desperately, he looked around for something- anything that could be utilised. He kept fighting against their hold, their grasp cutting off circulation in his limbs. The man prepared to enter, finding a position that didn’t put too much strain on his wounded leg. His fingers curled around Rick’s underwear and he began to drag them down. Uncut nails dug into his soft flesh.

Another gunshot sounded from nowhere and the leader’s body collapsed on top of him, blood pouring from the head.  _Michonne?_ No, it seemed like some kind of standoff between the two groups of men. Each group had guns, and shot out whilst taking cover from the ricocheting bullets.

Despite Rick’s leg, he managed to shuffle out from beneath the body, whilst the other men ran to get cover from the gunshots. Rick crawled behind a storage container to shelter from the constant stream of bullets. The bullet at least had cleanly exited his leg; he ripped part of his shirt off and tied it around his leg with trembling hands.

Eventually, the gunshots stopped, though it was hard to tell from the ringing in his ears. Bodies were littered around the room of the men that had once surrounded him.

A man he didn’t recognise, his vision blurry and unable to focus on him, crouched beside him. He tried to summon the energy to move away, but the blood loss, his head injuries and whatever other injuries had frozen his movement. The man pulled away the fabric and looked at the wound underneath. “Damn, that’s nasty. But I think we can just about fix you up.”

“Get off me,” Rick hissed as the man tried to pick him up.

“You wanna bleed out as soon as some guy just saved your ass then so be it. Or you can do the smart thing and let me help.  I need an answer because I’ve got other shit to do today.”

On the one hand, he could have been getting himself into a worse situation, yet this was not a day he was going to die. Not now. He had so much to live for and if he would do anything to get back to Alexandria. He nodded an agreement and allowed the man to pick him up. Strong arms lifted him and he gently put him down on the back of the pickup truck.

“Pressure's not stopping the bleeding and I don’t know how to do a proper tourniquet. Unfortunately for you, it’s a bit of a drive to my place and the rate you’re bleeding you’ll be long dead by then. It’ll be a bit of a shoddy job, but we’re gonna have to cauterise it before we get you to a doctor. I won’t lie, it will hurt like hell.”

“Do it,” Rick said definitively. Another went into the back and got some tools out of the other car at the man’s order.

“I’m Negan, by the way,” he introduced as he undid the makeshift bandage. Even with the head injuries, he recognised the name. It was only a couple of days ago they had taken out the Saviours’ satellite station outpost for a deal with the Hilltop Colony. One of the survivors had claimed to be Negan and he had killed him. Rick shuffled slightly away from him in the back of the truck. If this man was claiming to be part of Negan or whatever it was, this was so much bigger than that post.

“Stay the fuck still. You’ll make it worse,” Negan said, pushing on hand softly against his shoulder to calm him down. “Wade here is gonna seal the wound up and we need you to hold still.” Negan, knelt beside Rick, and guided his head to rest on his lap. Rick cried through gritted teeth as Wade poured strong alcohol over his leg to clean the wound while another man held his leg to restrict the movement.

Rick grabbed Negan’s hand with immense pressure to cope with the pain, but he didn’t seem to mind too much. “You need something to bite down on?”

He gave a faint nod and Negan put a belt between his teeth. “It’ll be worth it in the end. You’ve just gotta make it through this and I’m telling you, you will. I can already tell you’re strong. You hear me? You’ll ace it.” Rick only tightened his grip around Negan’s hands as his words did not comfort him at all.

He didn’t dare look as he heard the blowtorch, most likely heating up a piece of metal. “We’ll have to do both the exit and entrance wound. Real easy. Painful, but quick.”

The searing metal pressed against the skin was the most excruciating pain he had ever felt. Negan and another man helped hold him still as he struggled to get away from the burning feel of the metal.

“You’re doing great,” Negan commented, keeping hold of his hand. Though the metal was held on for a brief time, the pain exacerbated the length of time. Finally, the wound had closed up on the exit wound at the back of his leg. “That’s the worse one done. Next one will be a walk in the park.”

Rick’s eyes lit up again as the metal was pressed against his skin again. The pressure of holding Negan’s hand lessened immediately as he blacked out from the pain on the second time, a sudden stop to the pain.

With both wounds sealed and the bleeding having stopped, they headed back to the Sanctuary.

-

The feeling of waking up in a strange place was all too familiar, especially in a hospital bed. The one relief he had was that he was able to move his toes, though he couldn’t see his leg under the bandages as he peeled back the cover.

“Oh, you’re awake,” the doctor said re-entering the room. “We’ve got you on some strong painkiller, so everything’s going to feel a bit surreal for a while.”

“What happened?” Rick murmured.

“I could read you the list of injuries, but I don’t think that will do much good for the patient morale. I’m Carson, the doctor here. I was worried you wouldn’t make it for a moment there, but you should have a full recovery. Given time.” The doctor didn’t stay long since he went to tell Negan that he was awake.

Negan sat down in a chair beside him. “You still look like shit, but you look better than you did.”

“You saved my life?” Rick said, more like a question than a statement. Charity was not a characteristic he had heard about these people. If Negan found about Rick had something to do with the outpost, there was not a chance of him living this one out. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. They really did one over on you. You’re lucky we got there in time. That group’s been a real thorn in my ass and needed dealing with. Most of those supplies you saw were mine and I wanted to deal with those people personally. The worst of the fucking worse… What they were gonna do to you- Fuck.”

“At least they got what was coming to them.”

“So, tell me, what was a guy like you doing there alone?” _Alone_. At least he knew Michonne wasn’t there, otherwise he would have mentioned her. So, the group had stolen the car. End of story, he reassured himself.

“Wrong place, wrong time… I had it under control.”

Negan smirked. “Course you did. I saw what you did to that guy’s leg. No shame in not being able to take how many guys on. I’m impressed you put up such a fight.”

Rick shifted in his bed and tried to push himself up. “I’ve got people that will be looking for me.”

“And you’ll be gettin’ nowhere in your current condition, princess.”

“Rick,” he corrected with a glare.

“Well then, Rick, let me tell you that you are not going to be able to walk for a while yet. Hell, you are lucky they you will actually be able to walk again. You push yourself any further and that just might as well change.” He took his hand in his own. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you like you’re one of my people.”

“Your people?” Rick questioned. They had slaughtered them at the outpost. They had killed every single one. So, there must have been so many more if their operation still seemed to be running smoothly. His people were in danger if that was the case: he needed to warn them. Sadly, Negan was right about him not being able to go anywhere.

“Yeah, this place is more than safe. No one’s gonna lay a finger on you here. When you’re good to go, be my guest.”

“When will I be able to?”

“Hell if I know. Carson will. Ask him.” He grabbed the clipboard of messy notes Carson had scribbled down about Rick’s injuries. “I can’t imagine it’ll be soon though. Shit, you can take a lot. Even half of these things on here would fuck you up. It’s a wonder you can think straight.”

“Barely.”

“Rest up. God knows you need all the rest you can get.” Rick closed his eyes, but Negan didn’t let go of his hand.

He opened his eyes slightly, his eyelids heavy. “You don’t need to stay.” His facial expression formed a quizzical and confused look, unsure why the man was staying. Rick meant nothing to him, regardless of him having saved his life.

“I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Haven’t you got this place to run?”

Perhaps Negan could sense how much Rick didn’t want to be alone because after what he had been through, he couldn’t feel safe without some sort of guard there. “It can wait.”

“I’m not the best company right now.”

“Not asking you to be.”

He closed his eyes and fell asleep with the comfort of their being another person there. The drugs running through his veins made him sleep almost instantly, a refreshing change from the strings of restless nights in Alexandria. The mentality of the need to be on watch was not easily shaken – even with the safety of the walls provided by the safe zone.

“Night,” Negan said, despite the fact it was midday. When he waited a while and saw Rick was in deep sleep with no risk of waking up, he left.


	2. Slow Recovery

When he finally woke up again, it was to the sight of Negan’s concerned look with furrowed eyebrows and Carson anxiously moving about the room.

His eyelids were heavy and all he wanted to do was drift back to sleep.

He fought the urge and managed to choke out a few words.

“You been here the whole time?”

“Christ, no. You have any idea how long you’ve been out?” Negan replied.

“How long?” The thought of his family jolted him awake. Anything could have happened whilst he had been out, especially if they were looking for him and ran into the wrong people.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a few days. You probably don’t remember waking up since you were so drowsy,” he answered.

“Felt like a dream,” Rick said, piecing together the memories from the haze. Hopefully he hadn’t mentioned Alexandria, but there was no way of knowing for sure.

“Must’ve. I’m surprised you remember anything. The painkiller really did the trick. Maybe a little too well.”

“I feel bad,” Rick said, though the word didn’t even begin to describe how awful he felt.

“Yeah, you look it,” Negan smirked. There was no doubt Negan was trying to be light-hearted about it, yet there was truth in his words. The last thing he wanted was to see what those men did to him. “You look like you’re recovering well,” Negan added, a correction at the sight of Rick’s expression. “All things considered. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

Rick removed the needle in his arm connected to the drip, despite Carson assertion that it should be kept in which he ignored.

“I had a feeling you weren’t exactly the listening type,” Negan said, making no attempt to stop him. “Now, let me guess, you wanna go and find those friends of yours, Carl or whatever, even though you wouldn’t make it a few metres?”

Rick stared at him at the mention of Carl’s name.

“You asked for him. Quite a lot from what Carson told me. So much I bet it got pretty irritating, I’ll bet. He a friend?”

“Family,” Rick said, keeping it vague but honest.

“It’s rare people have any of that left.”

“I need to go.”

This time Negan did intervene and lightly pressed a hand against his shoulder to stop him from sitting up. “I get it, I do. They might go get themselves in trouble trying to find you or something might happen while you’re away. Whatever your reason, it’s not a good idea for you going anywhere. We’ve been through this already. Now, I ain’t forcing you to stay here, but it really isn’t a good plan – just like going into a building full of guys with only a knife. How the fuck have you survived this long? Don’t get me wrong, you sure as hell can fight, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to walk let alone defend yourself in your condition. There’s more of that group out there…” He looked like he was going to add something, but Rick interrupted before he finished.

“More?” Rick’s eyes widened. If there were more, there was a chance they had Michonne. He pushed Negan’s hand away and sat up instantly, regardless of the dizziness it brought on.

“Yeah and what you gonna do if you run into them?”

“Depends if you’ll give me a gun.”

“Revenge doesn’t have the same impact if you get yourself killed while doing it... The way I see it is you have a couple of options. You can forget going off on foot unless suicide is a top priority. So, you can either stay here until you’re a-OK to go or trust me enough to drive you to wherever your group are.”

Neither of those options was ideal. There was no way he would give Alexandria position away. He wished there was something else otherwise he would have to pick the first choice and he had already been away long enough. “You could give me a car. I’m good to drive.” He could see straight enough to pull off basic manoeuvres anyway.

“You seem like a really great guy, but I’m not willing to just give you a car. There isn’t a surplus of them and it’s not like I have spares.”

“Please. I’ve got to get back.” Rick met his eyes. It was hard to gage the other man’s thoughts; his facial expression didn’t give much away in the pause in between the question and answer.

“I’m sure those bright blues eyes usually work and fuck I want to give you a car, but I can’t be seen giving handouts. I’m more than happy to drive you back and give you some supplies, yet a whole car? You’ve gotta be kidding me. Besides, I don’t think you’d get far from the look of you.”

“I’m fine,” Rick argued, although he knew Negan saw right through it.

“Look, I know you don’t trust me, but at least trust me when I say there are a lot of shitty people out there and no one might come in time to save you next time.”

Rick scowled at his patronising tone. “I know that.”

“Call me sentimental, but I don’t wanna see you dead,” Negan said. “Plus, we used a lot med supplies on you and it would seem like a waste if you go and get yourself killed. And it’s not just that group to worry about, there’s more. One fucking killed a bunch of my guys in their sleep. Slaughtered. Jesus Christ, it was a mess.”

He tried to look surprised and shocked at the news. Movement in his face was hard due to the swollen lump that was once his cheek, but he managed something vaguely resembling those emotions, acting like this was the first time he had heard it.

“Do you know who did it?” His voice wavered from the fear of the answer.

“I’ve got people on it,” he replied. Rick bit back his next words about clarifying Negan’s answer, careful not to arouse suspicion.

 _I’m sorry_ was all he could think to say.

“It ain’t nothing for you to worry about. There’s no chance of them getting in here.”

“I can’t stay.” He needed to warn them about the Saviors and Negan being so much bigger than they thought. For all he knew Negan was planning to attack them already. He needed to find Michonne and know she’s safe. He needed to leave. He had waited too long.

Negan tried to stop him from leaving the hospital bed, but it was more his leg buckling under his weight when he tried to stand that stopped him from making any progress in leaving. Negan caught him just before he completely collapsed to the floor. The sharp pain didn’t stop as Negan helped him back onto the bed. It felt like he had been shot again. It was funny how easily he forgot the pain whilst he had been lying down, and the pressure put on his leg served as a painful reminder of his recent trauma.

“And you can’t really leave either,” Negan said, helping him lie down properly again. “You try that shit again and you might actually end up losing a leg or something. I know it sucks but I laid out your only two options. Maybe I can meet you halfway and when you’re good to walk, or at the least limp, I can drive you most of the way. I don’t get to know where your camp is and there’s less chance of you dying straight away. We might even be able to find you a car.”

Rick evaluated his options. He gave a small nod.

It was the best solution there was. Nothing about this was ideal, but he knew he was useless to Michonne if she was in danger. By now, they would know there was something up and go looking for them. At least one advantage of being here was seeing whether Negan had plans of attack on Alexandria and he could steal a car as soon as heard of anything. Though he had no idea the way back home since he blacked out – home could be miles and miles away.

“Smart choice. It ain’t so bad here anyway. Compared to wherever you’re from I bet its premium accommodation, right?”

“Right.” Rick closed his eyes, already tired. No matter how much he rested, it never seemed to be enough. Standing up only had exacerbated his tiredness.

“You think you can stay awake a little longer, sleeping beauty?”

“Don’t call me that,” Rick said, keeping his eyes closed, not having the energy to give some hard look.

“You’ve gotta eat, unless you want us to feed you through a tube. You haven’t eaten in days, remember? You must be starving.”

Whether it was the injuries or the thought of what those men had planned to do with him, something made him want to throw up whatever contents was left in his stomach at the idea of eating. “I can’t.”

“It doesn’t have to be much. Any requests?” Something about the man was compelling and his tone was persuasive, but it didn’t change his mind.

“I’m good,” he replied, opening his eyes slightly. “I appreciate the offer though.”

“You wanna recover or not? Seriously this is practically our only hospital bed and I could do with you getting better to clear up space.”

Rick begrudgingly agreed to the offer of soup Negan suggested. Negan gave an order for one of his men to get it and he brought it in on a tray. Rick sat up and tried to find a position that didn’t hurt his leg. The pain from when he tried to stand was still throbbing, a reminder of his weak condition. He tried to bring a spoonful of soup up to his lips, yet his hand was shaking so much that there was barely any soup on it by the time he pressed the cool metal to his mouth.

He tried again, but it ended with the same result. He hated the look of pity Negan gave him as he tried once more. With a sigh, he dropped the spoon and pushed the bowl to the other side of the tray.

“Giving up already?” A few seconds later Negan grabbed the spoon and brought some of the soup to Rick’s lips.

Rick glared at him, his face burning with embarrassment. He looked a lot more vulnerable from the outset, though it was probably best he seemed it since Negan wouldn’t perceive him as a threat and suspect his true capabilities.

“Hey, no shame in needing a bit of help. Though if I get seriously fucked up like you, I expect the same treatment.”

His words made it feel slightly less humiliating that he was in this position. He leaned in hesitantly and accepted the soup. It must have been scolding hot, but his tongue burning was nothing compared to the fiery pain shooting up his leg.

There was nothing to be gained from doing this for him. From what he had heard about him, this man wasn’t supposed to be kind or compassionate. This man should have left him for dead. Yet before him was a man who actually seemed to care, though he had a strange way of showing that.

“Thanks,” he said after a few more mouthfuls.

“Startin’ to feel a little more with it?”

Rick nodded, despite his answer being as far from the truth as possible. It wasn’t only his physical state, his mental state had worsened too. After coming face to face with death and worse, and now being subject to kindness from the man who was meant to be evil was too much to take in.

“Good. See, you’ll be on your way in no time. Just don’t rush it and go fuck up your leg more than it is already.”

“Is it that bad?” he said, simultaneously wanting to look under the bandages and to wrap an extra layer of dressing to it.

“Want me to sugar-coat it?”

“No.”

“I’m guessing you want something a little more than fucked up?” Negan joked, yet Rick’s straight face made him correct his tone to suit the seriousness of the conversation. He ran his hand through his gelled-back hair. “Right. It’s, uh… Not the prettiest thing to look at right now, but it’s healing up nicely– well, as nicely as you can expect. Couple of more weeks and you’ll be right as rain.”

“Weeks?” Rick blurted out. He wasn’t waiting weeks. A few days were possible, a week was just about doable; two weeks was unthinkable. And anything beyond that was impossible.

“Rick, clearly you’ve never been shot before, but me neither and I get you don’t walk off a gunshot wound. Sure, it’s pretty ballsy, but I feel we’re going in circles. And, believe it or not, I was being generous when I said ‘couple’.”

Technically, he had been shot before and he walked it off, but the coma point didn’t help his case at all. More the opposite.

Rick agreed, though he was internally ruling out the whole idea.

“Now, Rick,” he said, using his name again as though he simply liked the sound of it. “I’ve got leader shit and whatnot to get on with, and I’ll come back later to see how you’re doing. If I come back to an empty hospital bed, I will be pissed to all hell and feel pretty hard done by, so I presume you’re not going to screw me over like that.”

Absentmindedly, he agreed, barely listening. He was too consumed with endless possibilities of what was going on at Alexandria and the idea of everything happening without him there.

 

Later, Negan proved to be a man of his word and came back. He had rested more since their encounter earlier. Carson spoke about something about too much rest might have a negative effect, yet the tiredness overpowered all of his senses.

As soon as Negan entered, Carson left. He left like a loyal subject would do if the King commanded, except Negan didn’t have to give the order. It must have been out of either fear or respect for his ruler, or possibly a mix of both. There was a slightly weird atmosphere surrounding this whole situation that set Rick on edge, yet he didn’t know whether he was just fabricating untrue things based on what he had heard so far about Negan and his men.

But, Rick wanted the company.

He needed it.

He didn’t want to be alone, left to dreaming up everything bad that could be going on without him. Unlike Carson, he found Negan’s presence to be almost comforting. His charming, playful words were soothing in a strange way. Of course he didn’t admit that to himself: he tried to justify the other man’s company in his head by saying it was a way of making a connection with the enemy. Understanding this man.

 

He slept well.

For once, he woke up feeling refreshed – a rare feeling. A much appreciated one all the same.  And with that feeling, he felt the even worse for it. About leaving Michonne and Alexandria behind, not that he had much choice.

It must have been late morning from how light the room seemed even with the curtains shut tightly. He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep whilst Negan went on with the conversation he wasn’t keeping up with. Negan had enough words for the both of them. He talked like people used to, before the apocalypse ever happened. It gave him a sense of security.

He rubbed the blurriness from his eyes and his attention went straight to the end of the bed. Crutches lent against the end of the bed. A massive, red bow was stuck onto the top of one of them, in a comical fashion, like it was a Christmas present.

Needless to say, Rick was unamused.

Sluggishly, he managed to get in a position beside the crutches. He peeled the bow off and dropped it on the floor.

Even on the crutches, standing hurt. His injuries extended far past the gunshot wound. Walking on them hurt far more. He gritted his teeth through the pain and staggered towards the doorway. The air seemed fresher out in the corridor, though it may have been a psychological effect after being holed up in one room for days.

Rick watched as a Savior hurried past him in the hallway.

At the same time as being surrounded by the people who helped him, he was also surrounded by his enemies.

After killing so many, he must have been at the top of their priorities to eliminate.

And, now, he was inside their camp. If he wanted to, he could record everything about it, giving them all they needed to carry out a successful attack… except he didn’t want to.

These were the people who saved his life.

Negan, himself, had saved his life. That kindness was not a thing he wanted to stab in the back. Yet, he knew it would eventually come to that. It was always a situation of us or them. Just like it had been with The Governor. History was an easy lesson once you had lived through it.

“You really planning on walking about like _that_? Seriously, Rick, we’ve gotta have words about public decency,” Negan said from behind him, whilst Rick continued to watch the Savior head down the corridor. His voice made him jump a little. Clearly, the injuries had subdued his senses since he would have never let someone creep up on him.

Negan leaned against the wall, his leather jacket creaking. At the sight of his toothy grin, it was only now he realised he was wearing a hospital gown as he glanced down at himself. He didn’t know why he expected to still be wearing his blood sodden clothing from before.

As another Savior passed them, Negan positioned himself in front of Rick with a hand on each side of the doorway as if to protect his decency. He was faced away from Rick, saying a smug comment about Rick’s clothes (well, lack thereof) to the man passing. When the man had turned the corner, he turned back around to face Rick.

“Sure you can walk about without pants at home; everybody does it, but come on…” Negan gestured for him to go back into the room. “Clothes first, skipping town later.”

Rick sat back on the bed and picked up the pile of neatly folded clothes he had failed to notice when first waking up. He glanced at Negan, waiting for him to leave the room so he could change. Even a stranger seeing his injuries was a mortifying thought, and that man had already seen them before.

“Yeah, I hear you. I’ll avert my eyes, princess.” Negan turned away from him in a showy manner. He continued to talk facing away from Rick, his voice bouncing off the white walls. “I see you found the present I left you,” he said, referring to the crutches. “I knew you’d be back on your feet in no time.”

Negan carried on speaking while Rick struggled to get into the clothes. The jeans were especially troublesome and he held back his groaning as he pulled them up across his bandaged leg, using the crutches to help him balance. The shirt was so much easier, though every movement stung somehow. His entire body was cuts, grazes and bruises.

He only scanned over his wounds before roughly pulling on the clothes.

He saw as much as he wanted to.

The marks pressed into his wrists from the pressure the men had applied in order to hold him still were what he wanted to cover up the most.

Out of sight, out of mind.

“I’m done,” Rick mumbled under his breath, as he fumbled with the last button on his shirt.

“So, were you really gonna skip out on me?” Negan asked with a smirk, pivoting back around in one swift movement.

“No.” The thought of escaping hadn’t been at the forefront of his head. Only getting fresh air.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say I’m growing on you.”

Rick answered with another icy look, though the man’s words were something he was worried about.

The Saviors were bad people, possibly worse than the men he ran into earlier.

And yet he felt no hate for their leader?

Negan wasn’t deterred by his look. In fact, he seemed enthralled by it. Possibly because nobody else dared look at the man in charge like that and it was an expression he rarely saw. “Jesus, Rick. What’s a guy gotta do to win your approval? Saving your life not enough?”

“I already thanked you,” Rick said plainly.

“That you did.” Moving the crutches and leaning them against the bedside table, Negan sat next to him on the bed. At the same time, he kept his distance, making sure he was giving Rick enough space. “On a scale of one to ten, how much pain are you in?”

For a brief moment, he acknowledged the pain properly. Compared to the pain he had been in, the headaches, dull aches and sharp stings were tolerable. With a raised eyebrow, he said, “About a two.”

Negan didn’t look convinced. “Yeah and I’m guessing being shot was around a five. Five and a half max. They hit your head that hard you don’t know what pain is anymore? For me, a bleedin’ papercut is about a two. Can you say at least a four for my sanity’s sake?”

“Four, then,” Rick concurred.

“That’s more like it,” he replied with a smirk. “I should really check you’re alright if it’s still just a four though.” Negan turned to get something and then shuffled closer to Rick, turning Rick’s head towards him with his hand.

A bright light was thrust in front of his right eye. He shut his eyes tightly for a few seconds. “What the hell are you doing?” Rick said, while Negan told him to open his eyes again. He did so and looked into the glowing white.

“What are you doing?” he repeated, as the man shone the light into his other eye.

“I’m not one hundred percent on that one, but I’ve seen Carson do it loads and they always do it on the movies,” Negan smirked, finally putting the torch down. “I think all I’ve got to do now is work out if the pupil dilation is from a concussion or you’re in love – or alternatively loving the whole doctor-patient dynamic we’ve got going on here.”

Rick blinked away the bright spots left behind in his eyes, his eyes teary.

“But, seriously, I think you’re gonna make it. Both eyes are still there and working, which is pretty good going I’d say. Plus, we confirmed you’ve got the brightest pair of blue eyes I’ve ever goddamn seen.”

Rick squinted slightly, both from the light and a complete unknowing how to react. His face morphed into a blank stare.

“Smooth as shit, Rick. I think you missed it right there.”

Rick had just about worked out it had been an attempt at flirting, but he was in no way used to another guy talking to him like that. Negan must have sensed it made him slightly uncomfortable as he backed away a few inches.

“You up to breakfast? I could go get you some?”

Since the soup, he hadn’t eaten and he realised how hungry he was. His appetite must have returned with the new revitalized sensation and so he agreed to the offer.

 

Walking with the crutches seemed to get more difficult after using them for an extended period, resulting in breathlessness and a severe aching in his leg and around his ribs. He ignored Negan telling him to rest up a little more.

Bed rest was not something he needed any more of. He pushed past the tiredness for Carl and Judith, and Michonne.

The feeling of waiting around for someone who may never come back was all too familiar and he didn’t want to put people through that, especially not his family.

Eating helped a degree, but he found his energy was quickly spent up.

Getting back home even halfway on the crutches was going to be impossible. His only hope was if they were able to find a car. He inquired about the car the group had taken from Michonne. Other than the fact it was covered in gore, the car should be in running order.

Negan half-heartedly agreed to the idea, though threw in some comments about how it all depending on the car possible working and how he would have to put fuel towards the journey back for Rick. It was a weak line of argument considering he originally offered to drive Rick back to wherever his camp was, which meant he was willing to use up fuel for a return journey too. He brought it up, and Negan instantly changed the subject.

Most Saviors he came across were easy to read, but he wasn’t sure if Negan was making these excuses because he wanted Rick to stay here for slightly longer or know where his camp was to exploit them like the Hilltop.

Reading his over exaggerated expressions was beyond Rick’s abilities. Predictability was a trait Rick appreciated when it came to his opposition. He lucked out there.

Despite everything, he was glad Negan stuck around for most of the day. He left for short intervals, but never stayed away for too long. In the meantime, he practiced more on the crutches in the infirmary; he didn’t have much energy to get far out of there. Part way down the corridor was all he could manage. He hated feeling this weak and pathetic, though Negan asserted recovery was going to take time.

Rick outright refused his offer of the wheelchair instead, insisting he was fine on the crutches.

However, the pain didn’t stay as low as a four while on them, but he winced through the pain. It wasn’t so much the leg he wasn’t standing on; it was more whatever had been fractured or broken.

His aches turned to agonising fire.

One of the crutches suddenly slipped out from his clutch and he went crashing to the floor, yelling out as he banged his leg against the hard tiles as he made it back into the infirmary.

On the floor, he impulsively pulled his leg towards his abdomen, cradling it in his arms.

He bit his lip to restrict any other sounds of agony escaping.

He didn’t even think to call out for Negan and tried to handle it on his own, pushing against the tiles to get the dropped crutches.

Rick pushed his hands beneath him and tried to stand up when he secured one of the crutches in his grip. He was like a new-born calf, struggling to balance on shaky legs as he rose with the aid of the crutch.

The moment he saw him on his way back from whatever task, Negan rushed to his aid.

Despite Rick groaning that he was alright, he picked him up with minimal effort and brought him back to the bed, murmuring _I told you so’s_ and telling him he’s got to be more careful.

With a feeling of indignity, Rick pushed away Negan’s attempts at making sure he was as alright as he claimed. Being touched on the same places on his arm as the men had, no matter how tender Negan was, felt nauseating.

It was strange how quickly Negan was able to read that and he sat back on the chair he had spent the majority of last night in.

Negan got Carson to give him a full checking over to give a definite answer instead of Rick’s false statements of how he felt. Nothing else was broken and there wasn’t any severe damage the doctor couldn’t fix there and then.

Negan stayed beside him throughout the brief examination, reassuring him as he could see how uncomfortable he was even at the doctor touching him.

After Carson went, he only left when he was sure Rick was definitely OK.

At the same time as not wanting anybody in the same space as him, he needed it. Rick wanted him to stay again. Stay another night by him until he fell asleep.

But he didn’t say anything as he let Negan walk away, leaving him alone in the infirmary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the next chapter mostly written, so it won't be long for another update, and the story is going to pick up a little more from there.
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter!!


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